When I was carefree, totally oblivious to my surroundings. I was Immature, Naive, yet trying hard to be different from the rest. I rushed up on my homework so I could go out and play ‘pitthu’&’staapu’ with my friends. I gobbled up my dinner so I could be in time for the after-dinner stroll. I didn’t want to miss even an iota of the neighborhood gossip!
It was a time when my friends’ mothers or sisters were my idols, my confidantes. Although I was equally close to my parents, confiding in your best friend’s mother or sister was what everyone in the circle was doing. I too wanted to be in the league!
Those were the days of endless hours of conversations over the phone(not to mention the scornful eyes of my father looming large) with my best friend, discussing who all had a crush on us(the more the admirers, the more we felt superior to the other) or if the guys we were setting our eyes on were reciprocating.
How I used to eagerly wait for the school bell to ring after each period so I could have that 5minute interim break to have a chat-over with my friends ranging from what we all had got for lunch to how we couldn’t agree with our parents’ constant bickering to the obvious topic on boys!
How I used to keep my fingers crossed hoping my parents would allow me to go on late night parties and how thrilled I used to be when they did allow what with a condition of being back home by 10PM sharp!
How my friend and I got a bashing from our respective parents when we got back home late after attending the trade fair at Paragati Maidan!
Then there were those times when I used to look forward to my stay over at my grandparents’ which meant boarding a different school bus and not having my ma constantly supervising me(she was a teacher in the same school)! I could be on my own.
It used to be a contrasting scenario. My brother, used to hate being away from my mother, an absolute ma’s pet that he still is. I used to crave to be with my grandmother.
She pampered me by cooking my favourite dishes like molagooshyam,Olan, Sambhar(her forte was ulli-sambhar) and so many other things. And she had this amazing way of telling stories which was so endearing. I couldn’t go off to sleep when I was at her place without listening to atleast one of the stories. I miss you, Ammamma. I wish you were around to tell stories to Namnam as well.
I miss having golgappas and tikkis that our chatwaala from the locality used to make. They were much tastier than those ‘branded’ ones from Bengali Market or Aggarwal chaat corner.
I miss the rides in those state-run buses which used to be heavily crowded but used to play some wonderful music! Not that the rides were devoid of the usual oglers and butt-pinchers, but one small safety-pin was sufficient enough to have a peaceful ride.
They were such good times.I could just go on and on…I could do anything in my power to bring those days back.